


there's a john mulaney reference in here if that entices you

by taylor_tut



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, Bruce Banner Is a Good Bro, Gen, Hurt Tony Stark, Protective Bruce Banner, Protective Tony Stark, Science Bros, Sick Character, Sick Tony Stark, Sickfic, bruce banner minor angst like just for a minute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 17:33:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16769704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylor_tut/pseuds/taylor_tut
Summary: Tony and Bruce are captured while Tony has a fever and Bruce isn't sure whether he'll be able to keep the Big Guy away if Tony is in real danger.





	there's a john mulaney reference in here if that entices you

Bruce was starting to doubt that Tony was just having a migraine. 

That afternoon, before they were captured from Stark Tower and everything hit the fan, Tony had been working in the lab with Bruce and Peter. He’d been slow and quiet all day, not willing to admit even against the evidence of the growing number of empty cups that it was anything more than “not enough coffee” until he snapped at Peter for not being able to hear him over the music he was blasting in his headphones, which he was only playing because Tony had cut the normal lab music playlists. He’d immediately caught his mistake and apologized, but not before Bruce noticed him jabbing the heel of his hand into his eye socket. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, watching Tony turn off his tablet and set it on the lab bench in front of him. Tony sighed.

“Just—”

“You’ve had six cups, Tony, it’s NOT caffeine withdrawal. If anything, you’ve had too much.” His voice softened when Tony looked scolded and exhausted. “So, when was the last time you slept? Have you eaten today? Or is there something wrong with the arc reactor suit that you’re not mentioning?”

Tony shrugged. “I slept like 10 hours,” he admitted. “Haven’t been hungry. It’s not the reactor. I think it’s just a really bad headache.” 

“Mr. Stark, don’t you get migraines?” Peter asked, earning himself a suspicious glare. 

“How did you know—”

“I read a tabloid that said you had one at a press conference,” Peter explained, blushing. Tony rolled his eyes and regretted it immediately. 

“You read clickbait?” Tony asked, and Peter frowned. 

“You’re dodging,” he accused, and Bruce nodded.

“Wow, kiddo, you caught onto that habit quicker than anyone I’ve ever seen Tony hang around with.”

“Aunt May taught me how to see through that kind of thing.” 

Peter turned a focused look on Tony and he buckled under it. “Fine,” he caved. “It might be a migraine? I don’t even know. It’s just annoying; nothing I can’t push through.” 

Bruce wasn’t buying it and took his tablet from the table before he could resume whatever he was doing on it. 

“Why don’t you just go take some Excedrin and lie down for half an hour?” he asked. “If you’re feeling better then, that’s great. If not, you can always come back to work.”

Tony smirked. “Newton’s first law, huh?” he asked. “An object in motion’ll stay in motion; a genius at rest will fall asleep and crash for an indefinite period of time.” Bruce shrugged.

“What can I say; I’m a physicist,” he replied. “So, you’ll take a break? Peter and I are hungry, anyway; right, Peter?”

Peter nodded. “I’m always hungry,” he agreed. Some combination of the super metabolism and puberty were to blame, Tony thought, and he knew he couldn’t say no to Peter.

“Alright,” he finally caved, “you two can order a pizza and I’ll take it easy ‘til you finish it.” 

Turns out, they didn’t get that far, because the universe sucks. Before Peter could finish even his third slice of pepperoni, the Avengers had been called to assemble. Tony had insisted that the pills had helped and that it was nothing more than a dull ache, now, which had been believable enough to allow him to suit up and head downtown with Bruce. He’d sent Peter home: the battle was going to go on for a while, Tony had guessed, and it was a school night. He’d promised he’d call if he changed his mind and Bruce knew that he wouldn’t.

The Hulkbuster armor was the best present Tony had ever given Bruce. Maybe the best present he’d ever given anyone, in competition only with having given Rhodey the ability to walk again and Pepper his whole heart. He still thought the Hulkbuster armor MIGHT be cooler, but he had to admit he was biased. 

Anyway, Bruce had been having the time of his life in the suit before the baddie’s aircraft had flown by and casually sucked him and Tony up with a giant fuckin’ magnet. That had sucked. Everything had gone pretty quickly from there: magnet, ridiculously fast flight to a secret secondary location (and everyone knows your odds of comin’ back from a secondary location were slim to none), and imprisonment. 

So, here they were, crammed in a cell. The DM as Bruce had unaffectionately taken to calling the alien who’d kidnapped them had taken out Tony’s arc reactor in order to ensure that he couldn’t access the suit, but more concerning than that was that after Bruce had sat and waited patiently for them to be done with Tony so he could have him back and when they finally threw him back in the cell, he was not acting himself. His eyes were barely half-open and not tracking, and “docile” was not a word that he should be able to use for Tony Stark but right now, nothing else seemed to fit. 

“What did you do to him?” Bruce had demanded when the guard, a tiny female-presenting alien who should by NO means be able to prop up his limp-looking body yet somehow did so with ease, tossed him into the cell, where he’d stumbled inside and collapsed when Bruce had caught him. His face was beyond pale and into ashy-grey territory and Bruce began to look him over for visibly bleeding wounds or bruises that might suggest internal hemorrhage. 

The guard shrugged. “Not my department, but I’ll put in an inquiry,” they’d said in a tone that had implied that they did NOT have plans to do that paperwork. Bruce turned his attention once more to Tony as they walked away, sitting him up against the wall of the cell and watching him come round a little bit. Combined with the fact that he hadn’t found any obvious signs of torture, that was a good thing, he thought. Since Tony a) had a weak heart from several surgeries and the arc reactor and b) never drank water, he tended to have low blood pressure, so it wasn’t surprising that, combined with the fact that he’d seemed kind of ill earlier, he was feeling more coherent lying down. 

“Hey, buddy,” Bruce greeted as Tony’s eyes struggled to focus on him, earning himself a grimace. 

“You only ‘buddy’ me if you’re freakin’ out,” Tony noted. “Don’t freak out. M’okay.” Bruce highly doubted that, with the way Tony was slurring his words. Though he seemed more conscious, the level of clarity he’d achieved by lying on his back with his legs elevated was only marginal, and he was now flushed and slow. 

“Okay,” Bruce promised, “I won’t freak out. But you have to meet me halfway. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Tony honest to God didn’t know, but with all the things he’d hidden from everyone across the years, all the imperceptible damage to one’s trust that accompanied being Tony Stark’s friend across the years, he knew there was no way Bruce would believe that. 

“My head is killing me,” he admitted, hoping that he could garner some sympathy with the still-active migraine. It worked, he could tell by Bruce’s frown, and he allowed himself to close his eyes and lean into the cool touch of his friend’s hand on his overly-warm forehead. 

“You’re burning up,” he announced, which was just as much news to Tony as it was to Bruce. Just keep him from panicking, Tony told himself. Keep him calm. He forced down his own migraine and the dread that was starting to crop up in the back of his mind in favor of focusing on keeping Bruce from Hulking out. His mind was fuzzy, barely coherent, and it was starting to become difficult to keep a thought together. However, none of that was as important as keeping Bruce calm. 

He blinked back black dots and tried to sink even further into the floor so that his legs could be above his heart, a position that always made him feel a little better when he got like this. Bruce seemed to instantly know what he was going for and draped Tony’s legs across his own lap for some elevation. 

“You can get some shut-eye if you need it,” Bruce offered. Tony shook his head, a poor choice which both made his eyes throb and his world spin. 

“All good here,” he slurred unconvincingly, barely able to fight the closing of his eyes even as he denied being tired. Before Bruce could ask again if he was okay, Tony started to feel lightheaded and his eyes began to flutter.

“Tony?” Bruce called. His voice sounded distant, like Tony was at the bottom of a lake and couldn’t swim back up. Maybe that would explain why it was so cold, too, he thought. 

When Tony started shivering hard as he passed out, Bruce honestly thought he was having a convulsion and it took everything in him not to freak out. He might’ve done so, really, had a guard not walked past the cells at just the right moment for him to call out.

“Wait,” he yelled, grabbing the guard’s attention in a way that definitely irritated them. “My friend needs water,” Bruce pleaded, “badly. He's dehydrated.”

The guard rolled their eyes. “Nice try,” they grunted, “but we've been told exactly how much water and food humans need to survive. We're giving you the minimum--this isn't a vacation.” 

“He's got a fever and a heart condition,” Bruce explained. “He needs much more than the minimum or he could die.” Bruce's eyes flashed green when the guard laughed and Tony, unfortunately, saw it, placing a hand on his shoulder to calm him.

“Come on, now, Brucie; ohm with me,” he joked weakly. Bruce turned a rapidly greening face on Tony.

“It might be our only way out of here,” he argued, but Tony shook his head. Fever-bright eyes pleaded for him to rethink his choices.

“You said it yourself,” he pointed out, “if you transform again, you might not be able to come back. At least give the others a chance to find us before you bust out the big guns.” Bruce hesitated. “Don’t leave me here alone,” he rationalized,  _ begged _ if you wanted to get technical about it, so Bruce reluctantly took a meditative breath to calm down. 

“Okay,” he compromised, “I'll wait. But if it starts to look like it might come down to either you or me, I can't guarantee I'll be able to keep the Big Guy away. He loves you, for some reason.” 

Tony nodded. “Understandable,” he said, “I'm very lovable. But it's not gonna be you or me, cause we’re both makin’ it out of here.” Even as he said it, the adrenaline was wearing off and he was beginning to slur the now less-than-reassuring words. 


End file.
